Story:The End of Eternity/E5
V In the Hands of the Conflicted Self A thousand Keys minus one stood in the way of Arend and the culmination of his dreams, but all he could think of was Klaytaza. Once the adrenaline, enthusiasm, and excitement of their discussion in the dark had passed, Arend felt incredibly tired, energized solely by his newfound desires. This was bewildering and confusing for him, for he had never felt any carnal desire for another human being, let alone most emotion besides disgust and annoyance. But with Klaytaza he felt warmth, confidence, and happiness, as if they had truly known each other for years. Could he even consider her to be a human? Their hands were interlocked as they walked down the clandestine streets of the nameless city. They were little more than empty now, but even though just a handful of people were walking down the wide streets, they still kept their heads down and paid Arend and his Key no mind. Misty clouds of grey deeper than the sky hung around the tops of most buildings around, and tendrils of silent, chaotic abyss even twirled around their feet. The night felt ominous, malicious even, as if it were endlessly tearing itself apart and descending into depravity in an effort to top its darkness. Within the deepest circle taunted one deeper still, until the tumultuous darkness appeared truly infinite. The layers of emptiness multiplied and revealed themselves more as Klaytaza and Arend walked down the lanes of gray, culminating in unease and quiet within Arend’s soul. Just as he felt frustrated and confused enough to cry out, Klaytaza stopped walking, squeezed his hand, and looked off to the featureless void. “They come.” Arend’s heart dropped within his chest. If the world around him was unforgiving and ominous before, now the darkness and uncertainty of the city felt sentient and unambiguously malicious. “What?” he whispered through a throat so sore he felt he was being choked. “Now? Already? We’re being attacked?” “We Keys can sense when others near us gain power and Masters. One of my peers must have felt my rebellion and our contract already.” Klaytaza reached a hand towards Arend and looked at him with a steely, determined gaze. “We must take action, my Master.” Arend took Klaytaza’s hand and ran. He was completely focused on absconding, and so he ran like a terrified animal, and Klaytaza followed him without difficulty or delay. He had seen the hideous fates that Klaytaza alone had done to almost ten people now, and the idea of an enemy at her level if not stronger made him perspire and shiver. Not even a minute had passed before Arend realized that he was instinctively running towards his home, and with a gasp, he quickly changed directions, almost tripping over his feet in the process. Klaytaza was unaffected. Now he raced towards his school, the only other place he could think of that would enable them to hide without any chance of detection. Not only was the school full of dismal corridors and empty rooms, its hallways were small and difficult to fight in, especially if the enemy Key had a weapon anywhere as long and unwieldly as Klaytaza’s. “Master,” she stated dryly when the tall, twisted buildings of the school appeared out of the night’s fog, “why are we running?” “I can’t fight,” Arend panted, “And we just met. We are both inexperienced and in no position to battle!” “Are you fearful?” She showed none of the difficulty breathing that Arend did, even though they had been running at breakneck speeds for more than ten minutes by then. Before Arend could respond to his Key’s inquiry, she stopped abruptly and stood straight up. The sudden movement jolted Arend backwards roughly; he would have fallen to the ground if Klaytaza did not keep hold on his hand, holding him up and sending a jolt of pain through his arm. “What are you doing?!” he whispered as he massaged his shoulder and looked around fearfully. “We can’t just fight here, in the middle of the street. What if we get ambushed? What if someone sees us?” “Only one Key is approaching us,” Klaytaza said, her eyes hardened and looking off into her dim surroundings. “And if there are any witnesses, we will eliminate them as well.” A shiver ran down Arend’s spine and he felt his arm hairs rise with goosebumps. There was a noble beauty around Klaytaza and her confidence, but the harshness and surety of her inhumane words drew her in a sharp, horrifying contrast. “Please,” he whispered finally, “If you insist on fighting, we should at least go somewhere secluded, where no one will see.” She turned back at him coldly – and for an instant Arend felt the deepest shame, because she looked at him with revulsion and disapproval. “After our mutual decision to end humanity, you act out of mercy for your fellow man?” Arend was taken aback. He puffed up his chest and lifted his nose in an effort to seem somewhat threatening to the woman who had not slept for millennia. “No, of course not. Only, it will be much easier for us to move about the city without any witnesses. Why waste pointless energy killing those who are not a threat to us?” Before he could blink this look was gone, and she had returned to her obedient and emotionless countenance, as if satisfied by her answer. “Very well,” Klaytaza assented, “I will follow you to your choice of destination, my Master.” Somberly he led her to the school’s courtyard. Now more than ever the massive yard was empty and peaceful, but it was a bittersweet, dangerous peace. Arend shied away from every long shadow and every metallic obstruction out of fear that behind it hid an enemy, ready to kill him before he noticed what had occurred. Nothing of the elegant construction or well-funded nature of the school’s perimeter was discernible, only a wavering horizon filled with craggy skyscrapers and looming monoliths of the unknown. He brought the Key to the furthest, most remote arena he could think of within the school’s hellish microcosm: its observatory. The tallest peak of the tallest building stabbed up at the sky as if it were the vengeful summit of a long-lost mountain, and at this dizzying height none of the world below could be seen. Only a wild, abyssal ocean of black fog coasted at every point of the horizon. Neither close nor far, fellow peaks of curious skyscrapers poked through the mist and rose, some taller and some shorter. Here, above the clouds and away from the earth, it felt as if the duo were in a new kingdom of illusory atmosphere, but even here the stars still did not shine. Arend and Klaytaza walked to the middle of the massive platform and stopped. The lower world had been cold, but now in this mysterious gallery of loneliness, the winds were almost frigid as they tossed Klaytaza’s hair about. She looked at him and seemed to feel nothing, and in her gaze Arend shivered. “The enemy will be upon us shortly,” she said with a look of concentration. “We will not be interrupted by any obstacles here.” “How are we going to fight them?” Arend asked. He could not keep the wavering fear out of his voice; it clung to him and clawed at his throat from the inside. Absently he remembered the pen in his pocket, and he pulled it out. Somehow, in the blinding darkness of the raised world, the pen managed to shine with impressive resplendence like it had never shown before. Klaytaza gently picked the pen from Arend’s open palm. “I will be doing all of the fighting. I will protect you, my Master; all you must do is stay alive.” “What? I won’t be fighting at all? That doesn’t sound fair…” Arend crossed his arms and looked off into the abyss with a troubled look. “But if I don’t have any influence on this battle, is there a need for me to be here with you?” “Yes, Master!” Klaytaza replied, with a fierceness and urgency she had not shown ever before. “If you are out of my protection, the enemy Key will attack you indiscriminately. They will not hesitate to exploit any source of weakness we show. If I cannot protect you, all is lost. Just so, every Key knows to fight with their Master right beside them.” To show her resolve, Klaytaza twirled the golden pen in her slender fingers, and in a flash it transformed into the long pearl sword once again. Its handle was long, black, and jagged; the blades on both sides were long and viciously sharp. Just like the pen, the transformed weapon seemed to shine in the abyss. “I see… Do we have a strategy, then? I must stay out of danger, and you…?” “I will cut down the enemy Master and the battle will end. It is the only efficient way to end these battles, for the Keys are immortal. Though they can be cut to pieces and even destroyed, as long as their Master lives, the Keys will regenerate and fight without pause.” She looked down at the sharp steel of her dreamlike weapon. “I predict it will only take seconds to annihilate the enemy.” “Seconds? Are you that confident in your power…?” Klaytaza looked towards the gated entrance to the top-floor observatory and nodded sharply. “I speak from sureties, not confidence, Master. I did not simply observe during my sleep; I trained and struck out against the world in endless frustration. The other Keys have no experience in battle and no true training, but I do. They likely do not even understand the extent of their powers yet.” Arend’s hands slid into his pockets as a knife of chilling wind sent his hair convulsing around his forehead. “And what are your powers? You couldn’t have had access to that weapon before we met, so what did you practice in?” “You will see, Master. Forgive me for the secrecy, but it is a finite power that we cannot afford to waste.” Her Master said nothing in response. Arend was too taken aback by Klaytaza’s perfectly balanced form and the way she effortlessly handled her long, wicked weapon. Though she was veiled in a black deeper than the sky, her body and her curves were just as radiant as the blade in her hands, and her absurdly long hair only seemed to enhance this effect. The boy found himself admiring Klaytaza as well as looking at her with fright. Once again he was reminded of how ruthless and formidable she was, as well as how loyal she seemed to be. He had made a contract with an angel, Arend realized, and this angel was the mightiest of them all. There was likely no challenge in this fight, the boy suddenly understood, and he had no reason to fear any of the other 998 Keys to Eternity. Not when his was this mighty, this noble, and this fearful even to her Master. Her perfection did not seem an illusion; it slammed him in the face like reality, just as painful as every other observation he had ever made. This pain was a liberation, a shock to his senses, and a rekindling of his confidence. Arend said nothing, but he was overcome with emotion and joy at the so-called challenge ahead of him and his Key. He stepped forward and slid a hand around Klaytaza’s thin waist, his fingers resting lightly on her completely flat lower stomach. She did not jump or appear surprised at his sudden affection, and her guard and stance remained perfect, but she let her head tilt and rest on Arend’s shoulder in an expression of solidarity. She was perfect – everything, he grasped, was perfect; it all fell in line with his ideals, his plans, and his desires. The Creator truly had blessed him. With unbounded familiarity, Arend looked down at his Key and smiled. “There is no path ahead of us but victory – is there?” “None,” Klaytaza replied. “My endless power is yours to hold.” “And hold it I will, all for the Annihilation we have promised the world.” A figure appeared on the horizon at that moment, and immediately another figure arrived behind it. The two walked slowly but confidently, and they appeared completely limpid in shadow, as if they were specters painted only with black. Klaytaza and Arend noticed their presence immediately and did not move for a long moment as their two challengers walked towards them calmly. Both parties knew who their enemies were. When Arend noticed Klaytaza fingering the sharp edge of her blade in anticipation, he let go of her waist and took a single step backwards, just enough to stand out of her way but close enough to stay intimate and protected. The two enemies continued to step forward and Klaytaza’s battle stance was immaculate as always, until only fifteen or so paces separated the Keys. Then the two specters stopped and stood, shoulder-to-shoulder, and relished in the shroud that night had gifted them. Klaytaza pointed her shining blade downward at an angle, and it acted as a spotlight of sorts to illuminate the two foes standing ahead. In a vivid instant the darkness covering them evaporated, revealing a tall middle-aged man and an even taller figure swathed in all black, just like Klaytaza. “I would not have predicted you to be the one to oppose us first,” Arend said as he narrowed his eyes. “Was it so disturbing that you were irrelevant to me?” The teacher of Arend’s first morning class frowned and loosened the tie to his gray suit. He looked just as disgruntled and uncomfortable as he always did, but now he looked upon Arend with a new face of disgust. “I thought you were a student that needed proper guidance, but to see your delinquency advance to this level… I blame myself as a teacher for this.” “You think you really have any effect on me or my choices? Ridiculous.” Arend laughed as Klaytaza and the teacher’s Keys stood on edge, their matching golden eyes not moving from each other’s face. Unlike Klaytaza, the enemy Key did not have heavy black bags under their eyes, though the thin black seam lines still extended from their neck to their eyebrows. Of course, the teacher did not find any humor in the situation. “Do you even know what you’re doing, or has that malfunctioning Key screwed around with your mind?” “Malfunctioning?” All the humor drained from Arend’s face as his hands fell into fists. “Are you saying that I’m ignorant of the situation I’m in? That Klaytaza seduced me with her power somehow?” “Klaytaza…?” The teacher’s face scrunched up with confusion, and he crossed his thick arms over his broad chest. “So she has lied to you. A false name, a radical goal, and a sinful persuasion. You bastard Key, don’t you have any shame? This innocent boy is mere months from being an adult, and you’ve doomed him to his death in making a contract with him! How cruel could you be?” “Cruel? Innocent?” Arend lowered his head and let out a deep exhale in frustration. “You are just as foolish as I thought you to be. Do you really think I don’t know what I’m doing? You think you can persuade me out of my chosen path?” “…Of course I can.” The teacher scratched his stubble-infested chin furiously and narrowed his eyes as he looked over Arend – like a problem to be solved. It was clear he was having trouble solving it, and his obvious show of effort and thought only made him look like a bumbling fool trying to fool everyone around him. “Why would a kid like you want to willingly destroy the world? Why would you want to kill everyone – why would you want to go against God? It just doesn’t make sense. I can’t figure it out. She must have taken you over or used some power of persuasion.” “You’re the ones being fooled, all 998 of you, and all of your Keys, as well. You willingly sacrifice yourselves in order to be reborn – but for what end? To repeat your sins again? To scar the earth once more and force it to submit to your selfish wills?” Arend raised his head and, despite being more than a few inches shorter than the teacher, looked down at the man. His jacket was unbuttoned by now, and the dark wind blew its tails and his bangs behind him. “What am I doing, explaining myself to an old fool? There’s no point in wasting anymore time talking to you.” Arend could tell that he would never be able to sway the teacher and get out of a fight – and now that he had met one of the Masters, he began to think that he would not be able to persuade any of them to join his side. Whether he liked it or not, he and Klaytaza were likely going to be alone in their quest to end existence… but he liked that just fine. Arend took another step backwards and spoke pointedly to his Key. “I’m finished talking,” he added loud enough for the teacher to hear. “You can defeat them now.” “You smart-mouthed little fuck!” The teacher took another step forward and frowned, his face visibly contorted with wrath. “I was just going to wreck your Key and force you to rescind your contract – but now you actually make me want to kill you. I’m thinking about it – I really am, you hear me! How dare you decide to go against God and the mission of our Keys? Who gave you the right to dictate the fate of all our souls? Where is your mercy? Your patriotism, your pride as a human? Are you even human?” Arend was not amused. “We let you talk, but you won’t get another free pass. Unless you ready your weapon, my Key will stop you before you utter another word.” His teacher sighed and glared at Arend with resignation, but he obediently stood back and raised a hand to his Key, who still stood proud and unmoving. “Ramayana,” the teacher called out, “To me.” A seal consisting of what appeared to be an unknown language appeared in the air behind his hand, and the same symbols started to glow all around his Key’s bodysuit. The tall and muscular Key to Eternity knelt to the ground, and from his back appeared a bright light that pierced the dark clouds like a pillar to heaven. The teacher reached over and thrust his hand in the light; a second later he slowly began to pull his hand out of the shining spotlight, and within his hand he grasped a long spear made of a black wood-like material. When the ritual was finished and the weapon was fully retrieved, the Key lay his hands out to the air and fell on his back, his eyes closed and his chest exposed. Though he had told her to attack, Klaytaza had noticed Arend’s hesitance and stood ready in place, allowing her Master to observe the ritual for the first time. She was savvy to his desires and wishes much more than Arend initially believed. Such an innate connection must have come from the contract that the two made; if it allowed them to communicate silently, it would prove quite useful. This as well as the teacher’s distracted anger only multiplied the confidence within Arend’s heart, and as he looked over the familiar enemy, he smiled as if there was no threat within the fight at all. With Klaytaza by his side, Arend doubted there ever would be a challenge. The world was theirs to destroy. “Weren’t you the one talking about starting the battle, and now you’re just standing there staring?” The teacher frowned with distaste and twirled his long spear in his hand like it had no weight at all. “And – are you smiling? You… You really know how to act like a spoiled brat, don’t you? I should have known from the first second we locked eyes that you would be a problem, but I never would have predicted you’d be this insolent. I hope you’re praying, kid, even if God won’t listen to you. Not anymore.” Arend only smiled, shook his head, and looked to Klaytaza’s slender back. “You can fight now, Klaytaza. I mean it this time.” “Tch…” The teacher shifted his weight backwards before swinging his lance behind him as soon as Arend spoke, his light weapon moving before Klaytaza even got a chance to move. “As if I’d let you! Uttara Kanda… Banishment!” He drew a circle around himself with the point of the lance quickly, and when this was finished in less than a second, he twirled the lance and stopped it as the blade pointed right at Arend. By now Klaytaza had shifted her stance and bent down slightly, as if to pounce like a cat, but she was not fast enough. The point of the enemy’s lance began to glow with a bright orange light, and various symbols could be seen materializing around the blade of his lance. Arend sensed danger, and in a glint of light, he felt fear. He looked to Klaytaza, silently urging her to rush forward, to fight, and she burst forward, propelled by his desire and the power in her slender body. But again she was not fast enough, and a horizontal pillar of light shot forward from the enemy’s lance like a bullet. Arend felt time slow as he watched the divine beam cut through the air right towards his heart. It must have been the same speed as light, if not faster, for all of this happened before Arend’s heart could beat once. He knew he would not be fast enough to dodge, and whatever power this was would likely be enough to punch through him and end his life instantly. The light inched closer and closer, slowing as Arend’s time began compressed, and he felt like weeping. Unlike the legends, he did not see his life flashing before his eyes; all he saw was the light, burning brighter and moving forward slower and slower… and slower… Until it stopped. Arend was still frozen in fear, but he moved his eyes. He looked around before glancing back at the beam of light. Indeed, it no longer moved towards him. But the beam was not alone in freezing – the enemy still stood in his same position, mouth in a determined smirk and weapon pointing confidently ahead. The winds did not blow Arend’s clothes around him anymore. Nothing moved, not even the clouds. Time had stopped. He couldn’t move anything but his eyes. Every ounce of tissue in his brain raced for clarification. What was going on? Why was he frozen? How was he frozen? Could time really have stopped? How had the light ceased to destroy him? He no longer felt any air moving on his skin and he was not breathing. He looked up from the light, to the clock on the gate behind his foe, and saw that it was not moving at all. Not the second hand, nor the minute hand, or even the hour hand. The clock was completely still, save for a strong black crack across it that had never been there before. He had barely noticed it before, but now as he looked around, Arend saw that similar spider web cracks spread across all the world around him, reaching across even the ground and the clouds. Behind the cracks, the color had desaturated and washed out of the world like a painting losing its luster to the endless erosion of time. Finally, after a single heartbeat had passed, Arend glanced over to Klaytaza, only to see that she was moving. His Key had apparently been unaffected by the halt of time. She darted forward like an energetic shadow, the long blade twirling acrobatically within her outstretched right hand. As she lept and ran with incredible speed, she swung her sword around her in a dreamy dance-like action, moving closer and closer to the teacher, before she stopped and – in one smooth motion - raised her blade into the air. Without a shred of hesitation she continued to swing the blade, this time cutting through both the still air and the teacher’s unmoving body. He was clearly bisected from the strike, but nothing moved, so his body was separated by a millimeter but remained in place. Just to be sure, with the same practiced fluidity, Klaytaza stepped backwards and raised a foot into the air, using her backwards momentum to spin the blade in front of her and cut through the man’s arms. Finally, when her beautiful and destructive dance was finished, she flicked her free hand in the air with a nonchalant wave. Time began to flow. Suddenly the light was moving again, flashing brightly right in Arend’s eyes, and he was startled and fell backwards. He clenched his eyes shut and held his arms in front of him, bracing for the impact of whatever the attack was, but it never came. He looked up to see Klaytaza walking towards him nonchalantly, and behind her, he saw the tall clock above the gate moving again. Its hands hadn’t moved from the position that they were at before, and the crack had disappeared from the face of the clock. He swore – he knew – that he had felt time passing when the clock was still. Time had passed while time had stopped, and now both had resumed like nothing ever happened. But something had happened – Arend was sure of it. As he stood, he was able to see that he was not wrong. Behind Klaytaza’s sashaying hips, the disembodied corpse of the teacher lay sprawled out on the ground, a large pool of blood flowing out from beneath him like a newly birthed ocean of red. Klaytaza stepped in front of him, and her sword became the pen instantaneously. She looked up at him with the same hard face of hers, perpetually still and steeped in sorrow, but now casual and relaxed. Juxtaposed with her blasé look was her black bodysuit - now covered in the blood of the man that she had just slaughtered. “It is finished,” she whispered. Arend stood on shaky legs, his face going milky white from the sight of so much blood, and looked at her with widened eyes. “What was that?” he exclaimed, trying not to stutter. “What did you do?” “I cut down the enemy Master, just as I said.” She looked at him innocently and with a tilted head. “He was foolish and inexperienced in choosing to fight by himself – a Key is able to regenerate as long as our Heart and Weapon Artifact exists, but a Master is vulnerable and ostensibly mortal. By choosing to fight us without the aid of his Key, his annihilation was assured.” She handed the pen to him, and although her hands were stained with blood, Klaytaza’s own Weapon Artifact was completely clean. “No, not that.” Arend hissed. “The time. The clocks – the cracks. How did you stop his attack? How did you stop him?” Klaytaza looked at him plainly and spoke with not a hint of trepidation or shame. “That was my power – temporality. Time compression.” “Wha… time compression?” “Yes. We Keys to Eternity all have a specific ability that stems from our inner cores, and time compression is mine.” Klaytaza took Arend’s hand in hers – the dominant hand, now somewhat warm and welcoming – and walked back toward the gate of the heavenly platform. He followed obediently, but still with ignorant eyes and shaking knees. “I… I don’t understand. How is that even possible? It’s… I can’t imagine it at all.” “You lived through it, Master, so you will understand soon. The power is almost like I forcefully take time into my own heart, and it continues onward only for me. The outside world and all the universe is fragmented and stays still as I act as I please. And when it is finished – when I relinquish control of eternity back to the world – all of my actions go through as if time never stopped, and the world instantly adjusts. Of course it is not omnipotent; if I were to be injured during the compression, time would never be able to return to its normal state, and the very concept of time would collapse. We must be careful of situations we are in when we stop time, because we are not all-powerful.” “Amazing… That’s just amazing. Are any other Keys this strong? Could I learn to use that power, like how the enemy used his Key’s weapon?” “There are no other Keys with such an ability, no.” Klaytaza paused in thought for a moment. “When I was first born, I could only stop time for half a second, and only for once a week, but after constant practice I have extended its power to five seconds of effective compression, and I can use it three times a day before I lose all my powers.” The two stopped over the corpses of the enemy duo and Klaytaza looked to Arend curiously. “You will be able to command when I use the ability without prejudice, but I am not sure if you can ever adapt to using the ability, my Master.” “I… I see.” Arend shook his head as if he comprehended – he barely did – and decided that it would probably be better for him not to dissect the ability too much. All that mattered was that it worked, and that it worked for him. Half a second compared to five seconds was a massive difference; if this was the gap of strength between Klaytaza and the other Keys, their victory was assured. Once again, now that the instant of danger had faded, Arend put his hands within his pockets and started to smile with excitement. Klaytaza bent down over the fallen Key and put her hand over their back. Just as before, when the Key’s Master summoned his Weapon Artifact, the back of the Key started to glow with a pillar of light and the same strange symbols that had decorated Klaytaza’s unearthly throne. “With their deaths, we have proven that there is no mercy on this earth, and we have the power to make it so across all of creation. Klaytaza, did you know this one?” Arend inquired as he looked down to watch his Key hover her thin hands like greedy claws over the enemy’s back. The light persisted only for a moment before disappearing, and she stood when it had subsided. “Did you absorb his power of something?” “No,” the Key said to both questions. “I simply stopped the function of his heart. Now he cannot regenerate and search for a new Master. This enemy is out of our way forever.” Klaytaza turned and looked off to the wild abyss just outside the platform, the winds of the night now raging as hard as ever after the brief moment of peace that the time compression had gifted them. “It is a process we Keys can only perform on others, not to ourselves. I have learned that myself.” Arend noticed this moment of incredible sadness, and he stepped forward to circumvent it. His smile faded out of concern, but within him he still felt the unmistakable elation of a completely foolproof and risk-less plan. His hand snaked around Klaytaza’s waist again, and he pulled her close to him as he gingerly stepped over the fallen, mutilated body of his former homeroom teacher. Klaytaza’s head nestled into the crook of Arend’s neck, but she still looked out to the atmosphere, almost like she did not even notice Arend’s affectionate actions. “Come on,” he whispered to her with nurturing sympathy. Though he was still shaking from adrenaline and the events of the battle, the night had been long and would likely end within a few hours. Just thinking about it was enough to send Arend yawning. “We should head back.” At his urging, Klaytaza walked at Arend’s side, and the two started towards the platform’s tall clocked gate. “Where are we to go from here, Master?” “Home.” KEYS TO ETERNITY REMAINING: 997 <- Back | Next ->